


Salvation

by TheonSugden



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Alley Sex, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Dick slapping, Dirty Talk, Facials, Homophobic Slurs, M/M, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Priest Kink, Rough Sex, past drug references, this has hints of future Kieron/John Paul but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3417902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonSugden/pseuds/TheonSugden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieron sees the devil, and vanquishes him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> Robin was a guy John Paul briefly dated in early 2008 (when I wrote this story). Robin cheated on him. He only made a few appearances.

I can't tell you exactly how I ended up half-naked in an alleyway, choking some smug young jock on my cock (forgive me for the bad rhyme). I never really bother to think about those types of things. I gave up a lifestyle for the priesthood, but my urges never go away. Praying, fasting, thinking pure thoughts, even having a wank, the desires are still there.   
  
I have three choices.   
  
Castrate myself.   
  
Look for a real relationship and give up my calling.   
  
Embody the living cliche of the horny priest who walks the pews by day and prowls the streets by night.   
  
Guess you know which door I chose.  
  
I was out trying to clear my head, and I saw him. Being on the side of the angels makes spotting the devil much easier.   
  
I've known little punks like him since my first days in the bars. Strut around letting you know how gorgeous they are, begging you to worship them, but really so insecure that the only pleasure they can achieve, the only high, the only orgasm, is to crush the spirit of the bloke cursed enough to catch their eye.  
  
I was that man, once. And I'll never forgive myself.  
  
That night I had been out walking, troubled by the row I'd had with John Paul, the accusations that had rocked me to my very core. I saw Robin staggering out of the Loft. Some sad little twink trailed behind him, only to be shoved in the other direction. The peroxide youth ran off in tears, Robin's laughter echoing in his ears.  
  
I knew another lost soul had been created right before my eyes.   
  
Robin certainly wasn't bothered when he saw me.  
  
"How's John Paul?" he spat with that perpetual smirk he wore for all occasions.   
  
"Fine, no thanks to you," I spat back.   
  
He laughed that unbelievably smug, manufactured laugh of his, like he had learned about human life through watching smug telly presenters.  
  
"Did you lay hands on him? I know you want to, you fucking hypocritical cassock-wearing, crap-spewing cocksucker!"  
  
I dragged him into the alley before anyone could hear him. Our faces were so close, his breath trickled down my chin.  
  
He bit my nose, gently, with just enough force to make me shiver.   
  
"You'll put somebody's eye out with that thing. Bet you hear that a lot, Poof Priest. Father Fag. Canon Cocksucker."  
  
Each pejorative carried increasing bile...and desire.  
  
Just as I was going to punch him, he grabbed my crotch through my tight jeans. His eyes lit up with an unholy gleam.  
  
"Ooh, I bet you DO hear that a lot."  
  
I knew just what he needed and just what he was too gutless to ask for. My jeans and boxers fell to my ankles. I put my hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the hard pavement.   
  
He smiled at me, his eyes shining in the dark as he waited. I smacked his face over and over with my cock, telling him just who was in charge, or perhaps telling myself.   
  
His mouth felt so good. This felt so very wrong, the sickness of it all being enough to drive me further and further into my pleasures, to drive my cock further down his throat. I've often wondered if I had ever settled down with any of those boys I'd made fall in love with me, would I still be gay? Or was the forbidden fruit just as tasty with wedding cakes and fights over toothpaste as it was with drugs, booze, flashing lights, and no last names?   
  
I needed to hear him gag and choke and sputter, needed to see him reminded just how human he was.   
  
His hands squeezed my bum, clawing at the firm cheeks, trying his best to pry them open. Better men than him had tried and failed.  
  
I came all over his face. No warning, as he didn't deserve one. I pulled out of his throat and gave him the facial he wanted and needed. I'd have done anything to wipe that damn smirk off his face, but it was still there, hidden under the white coating.  
  
His pants were already around his ankles, so all I had to do was turn him around. His face and hands pressed against the brick wall. I accidentally shoved forward a few times as I slapped his skinny little ass with my prick. The ejaculate from his face was on my fingers and soon sliding into his hole. That was all the lube he was going to get. I was being generous compared to the old days.   
  
I teased him, putting only the fat head in first, pulling back until his body shuddered at that awful "pop" sound and at the emptiness he now felt. I wanted him to beg me. I put a few more inches in, just to give him more of a taste of what he was going to get, then pulled out again, abruptly.   
  
"Come on..." he whispered, his pretty face scraping the wall.  
  
I answered by sliding my length up and down his crack, not going further until I heard the right response.   
  
"I can't...I can't say it..."  
  
"Yes you can," I grunted, taking the opportunity to lift his sweater and shirt over his head, leaving him more exposed to the elements, more exposed to my hands and teeth and my sweaty large chest sticking to his scrawny back. Exposing him for just how small he truly was.  
  
"I...I...please..."  
  
My teeth sank into his ear, licking the wound in my closest hint of affection.  
  
"Please what?"  
  
He shivered from the cold, from my hands, so warm on this freezing night, tormenting his nipples and milking his leaking hose.   
  
"Please...Father..."   
  
That was what I had to hear.  
  
I filled him up, inch by inch, refusing to give him the hard and fast he so desired. The longer this lasted the more likely we were to get caught, but he was also more likely to remember this fuck every time he tried to put on the smug act, every time he tried to ruin another life just so he could get to sleep at night.  
  
I timed my thrusts with my hand jerking his quivering penis, not letting him do any of the work, making sure he knew he was mine. The thrusts got more and more violent as I neared the edge. I thought about how ashamed I should feel, how dirty and nasty this was, but instead all I could do was imagine John Paul's face, a young man who seemed so innocent and so much better than this scum I was pounding a new hole into. I knew I could find a better life.   
  
My mechanical hand job did the job and Robin blew his load into my palm, spraying graffiti on the wall which had seen so much over the years that a priest fucking a young college student probably meant nothing.  
  
The sensations around my pulsating prick were enough that I came, giving Robin my gift that I bestowed upon so few others these days. Somehow I wasn't sure how grateful he'd be.   
  
All I had to do was pull my pants up, but he had to do his slacks as well as find the shirt and sweater I had thrown somewhere in the dark alley. He was nearly going into convlusions by the time he found them, but he still managed to smirk at me.   
  
"Imagine what I'm gonna tell all the good people of Chester when they find out what you are."   
  
I snorted.   
  
"Go ahead. Tell all your mates that you got fucked by a priest. Imagine all those big burly lads in the locker room with you after they find out a holy man buggered your hole in some seedy back alley."   
  
Finally, the smirk went away. He looked confused, scared...human.   
  
I grabbed him, and for the first time that night, kissed him. A rough yet tender sign of affection, enough to remind him who was in charge, but also a hint of what a real relationship, true affection could be like. Maybe he could find it, even if I never can.   
  
He pulled away, in awe, licking his lips. I saw the unholy gleam vanish from his eyes, replaced by a scattered yet decent young man searching for something beyond promiscuity, bitterness and cruelty. Perhaps he could find a young man who could make him happy. Or perhaps he wouldn't change at all. At least Robin felt a little of what John Paul had felt every time he'd looked at him with those starry eyes.  
  
I had broken him.   
  
I felt like, in some way, I had served my purpose tonight.   
  
I kissed him on the forehead. Before I walked into the cold night, I had one final comment to make to him.   
  
"Bless you, my child."


End file.
